Eye of the Beholder
by SimplyLauro
Summary: AU--Directly after the events of the Thrawn trilogy, Mara takes her first few steps into a new life with the help of a certain Jedi. But it's not all peace in paradise, as they soon discover, and more than just Mara's past stands in their way.
1. Chapter 01

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The Author's Notes: PLEASE READ!

This fic is complete, total AU, and takes place directly after the events of the Thrawn Trilogy. That's right, there will be no Callista, no pint-sized Emperor, no Vong, not even Spector of the Past and Visions of the Future. Why? For one, while every book in the Expanded Universe is well-written, and while each has its own unique plot that beautifully uses old and new characters, I had my own ideas about the events after the demise of Thrawn and C'baoth. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure it wasn't all smooth sailing (it wouldn't be Star WARS if everything was . . . you know . . .peaceful), but I definitely wasn't expecting Callista. Or a pretend-relationship between Mara Jade and Lando. There was a lot of room for Luke and Mara's relationship to grow at the end of The Last Command, and while she certainly wasn't running to Luke with open arms, I don't think it would have taken ten years for Mara to realize that she had feelings for Luke.

So, I'm going to play devil's advocate. I'm going to toss out years and years of the Expanded Universe and start over.well.my way. Hopefully you like it. If you don't, I don't mind hearing why it didn't pertain to your tastes.

Please, please, please, if you have a moment, do leave a response! I read each review and usually try to respond in kind, whether that reply is in the form of a review (if you have an account) or an email (if you don't but I can find your email address). I enjoy learning about what I'm doing right and (not or) wrong in reference to my writing. Or character portrayals, or little details I missed, or plot holes. You get the picture.

One last note: this is mostly fluff about Luke and Mara's relationship. There will, of course, be some action . . .but it's meant to be a fluffy, romantic, (mostly) light-hearted piece. Sorry all you die-hard action fans! And sorry for the long, boring author's notes section.

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Disclaimer: _ Star Wars is copywrite its respective owners and creators (in this case in particular, Timothy Zahn and George Lucas). I have no intent of making money off of this piece (it wouldn't sell in the first place), nor do I seek to deliberately infringe on copywrite laws. This is just some fun I cooked up in my somewhat twisted little mind._

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Eye of the Beholder

Part One

(this section starts with a bit of a rewrite of chapter 29 of The Last Command, but after the roof scene it goes back to full-on original work)

If he was hesitant, no one could blame him. Or so he counseled himself. Luke Skywalker smiled a little wryly at that, his hand coming up to brush against the lightsaber he'd tucked into his tunic. The feel of it brought back to mind the reason he was heading to the roof of the Imperial Palace. It wasn't, perhaps, his wisest decision, but like so many other things, he felt that he had to do this. He did, after all, owe her something.

Her. Mara Jade.

His step slowed just slightly as he considered her. The woman who'd vowed to kill him. The woman, in a sense, who _had_ killed him. From a certain point of view, of course. Another wry smile curved his lips at that last mental note, and his thoughts drifted momentarily to another time, another place, and the echo of Ben Kenobi's voice saying those exact words.

The smile faded as he refocused on Mara. She'd changed since Wayland, since she'd used his sister's lightsaber to cut down his clone. She'd fulfilled the Emperor's last command, and freed herself from that demon. Those incredible emerald eyes of hers had been much clearer when she'd looked at him just afterwards.

On the other hand, things between them remained somewhat.strained. _At least_, he thought with a slight grin, _she doesn't want to kill me anymore._ With that thought in mind, he keyed open the door to the roof and stepped into the early evening breeze.

She was there, standing near the railing on the western side of the roof, gazing out over the city. He felt the brief touch of her mind as she stretched out to identify her company, and felt his smile renewed at the momentary flash of sarcastic irony as she confirmed his identity.

"Mara?"* he called, though he'd already started toward her.

"Over here," she called back. Something flickered across her sense, and Luke's smile faded. She was right, he _was_ up here to get an answer from her regarding the smuggler's coalition. But that wasn't the only reason, and he touched the concealed lightsaber again as he halted beside her. And really, they didn't have to start out talking business. He could ease her into it.

"Quite a view, isn't it? Must bring back memories for you."

She shot him a look, and he resisted the urge to wince. "Translation: How am I feeling about the homecoming this time. You know, Skywalker-just between us-you're pretty pathetic when you try to be devious. If I were you, I'd give it up and just stick with that straight-out farm boy honesty."

Well, it had been worth a shot. Hiding a grin, Luke decided that she was right. As always. "Sorry," he said aloud. "Too much time spent around Han, I guess."

"And Karrde and me, I suppose?" she asked in amusement.

"You want the straight-out farm boy honest answer to that?" he countered with a chuckle.

She threw him a crooked grin, the first time he'd ever seen her genuinely smile, and Luke felt his heart meet his ribs rather forcefully. Standing there, with her glorious red hair unbound and caught by the wind, and her green eyes sparkling with good humor, Luke thought for the thousandth time that Mara Jade was astoundingly beautiful. And something told him that he'd never meet anyone more beautiful. No.no, she was perfect. Especially when she smiled.

"I'm sorry I even asked," she replied, still smiling that crooked smile. He smiled back, trying to wrestle his heart back to its normal rate. Then he forced himself to get serious.

"So how _are_ you feeling?"

Mara turned back toward the city, her emerald eyes clouding slightly as she considered her answer. He could feel her inner turmoil as she tried to put words to her emotions.

"Strange," she finally replied. He waited patiently for her to continue, and after a moment, she did. "It's like coming home.only it isn't. I've never really stood here and just _looked_ at the city like this. The only times I was ever up here were to watch for a certain airspeeder to arrive or keep an eye on some particular building or something like that. Business for the Emperor. I don't think he ever saw the city as people and lights-to him it was just power and opportunities."

"Probably how he saw everything," he agreed quietly. A moment of silence descended then, before he sucked in a breath and himself as he tentatively eased into the next topic. "And speaking about opportunities.?"

He saw her grimace and winced himself. So much for a simple transition.

"The whole thing's ridiculous," she commented. "You know it, and I know it."

Time to try another angle. "Karrde doesn't think so."

She eyed him then, a twitch of her lips giving away a touch of amusement.

"Karrde's even a worse idealist than you are sometimes," she retorted with a soft snort. "In the first place, he's never going to be able to hold this smuggler's coalition of his together."

Mara's words echoed the thoughts of most of the people involved. Luke had to agree that the task would be difficult, but perhaps not entirely impossible.

"Maybe not," he said. "But think of the possibilities if he can. There are a lot of contacts and information sources out there on the fringe that the New Republic doesn't have access to at all."

"So what do you need information sources for?" Mara challenged, her gaze turning away once more. "Thrawn's dead, his cloning center is a shambles, and the Empire's in retreat again. You've won."

Luke shook his head and leaned further onto the railing, the breeze tugging at his hair and tunic. "We won at Endor, too," he pointed out quietly, wondering for a moment if bringing up that victory was wise in such company. "That didn't stop us from years of so-called mopping-up action. There's still a lot of work yet to be done."

Mara pushed away from the railing slightly, her brow creasing. "It still doesn't make any sense to put me in the middle of it. If you want a liaison between you and the smugglers, why don't you get Karrde to do it?"

"Because Karrde's a smuggler. You were just a smuggler's assistant." He risked a glance her way, concerned that she'd turn the New Republic down. She met his gaze for a second, then snorted softly.

"Big difference."

"To some people, it is," Luke murmured, flipping around to let his elbows support him against the railing. He tilted his head back, letting his gaze rake the stars just being to peek out above. "This whole negotiation process is running as much on appearance and image as it is on reality. Anyway, Karrde's already said he won't do it. Now that those vornskrs of his have recovered, he wants to get back out to his people."

Mara, too, turned her eyes upward. Then she shook her head, doubt creeping into her sense.

"I'm not a politician," she argued softly. "Not a diplomat, either."

"But you're someone both sides are willing to trust." Luke gave up on his study of the stars and faced her fully, his blue eyes earnest and bright. "That's what's important here."

Mara made a face, but he could feel the tiny ripple of surprise and pleasure at his words. Still, she wasn't going for it.

"You don't know these people, Skywalker. Trust me-Chewbacca and those guys you're sending out to transplant the Noghri to their new world are going to have a lot more fun."

He held her captive with his eyes, and let his warm fingers rest on top of hers. She didn't pull back from the touch, reading the steely confidence in his gaze.

"You can do it, Mara," he told her quietly, giving her hand a slight squeeze. "I know you can."

She sighed as his hand slid away from hers. He thought it best not to push his luck with her. She may have gotten rid of her demons, but if they were going to develop a friendship, it would take time and work.

"I have to think about it."

Luke nodded. "That's all right," he said in easy understanding. "Just come on downstairs whenever you're ready."

"Sure." Her green eyes tossed him a sideways look. "Was there something else?"

A smile bloomed on his face, traces of both his sheepish embarrassment and pleasure shining through. "You're getting good at that."

She smirked in self-satisfaction. "Your fault for teaching me too well," she countered. "Come on, what is it?"

The moment of truth, then. He took a long breath.

"Just this." He slid his hand into his tunic and pulled out the lightsaber he'd concealed there.

"What's this?" she asked with a frown. Clearly, it wasn't what she had expected.

"It's my old lightsaber," he told her quietly, his eyes focused on the cool metal to avoid the curious depths of her emerald eyes. He looked up only when her gaze had turned to the weapon as well. "The one I lost at Cloud City, and nearly got killed with on Wayland." He held it out with a steady hand. "I'd like you to have it."

Mara's eyes widened as she jerked her gaze back to his, startled.

"Me? Why?"

The embarrassment returned, and Luke shrugged self-consciously. "Lots of reasons. Because you earned it. Because you're on your way to becoming a Jedi and you'll need it. Mostly, though, because I want you to have it."

_I want you to have it_. Those words hung in the air between them for a long moment, before Mara's hand came slowly up to take the gift.

"Thank you," she said softly, all traces of her normal biting sarcasm gone.

"You're welcome." His hand found hers again for a moment. "I'll be in the conference room with the others. Come on down when you've decided."

It was time to withdraw, so he gathered his thoughts and walked slowly back toward the door to the Palace roof. He tossed one last glance her way, saw her staring at the lightsaber he'd given her, and smiled a little to himself. He'd managed to catch her off-guard, something not even Karrde had been able to do. He hit the door's release and took a step forward.

"Hang on," she called, and he felt a wave of unexpected relief wash over him. He turned back to her, unable to keep a smile from his lips. She was walking briskly toward him, those emerald eyes sparking with determination. "I'll come with you."

Luke took another breath, more than pleased for reasons mysterious even to him. He bowed to Mara as she proceeded him into the corridor, thinking that there was something inherently right about those words, despite of-or maybe _because_ of-what they'd been through. Still smiling, he followed her to the turbolift.

((* all dialogue from that section was taken _directly_ from chapter 29 of The Last Command by Timothy Zahn. The stuff in-between, however, was mine.))

--

Han Solo fidgeted as the meeting dragged on. All of the New Republic's bigwigs were there, plus the smuggler chief Talon Karrde and several of his employees and associates. Across the table was Luke, and next to him was Mara Jade, who'd formally accepted the job of liaison between the fledging Smuggler's Alliance and the New Republic. Her eyes, however, were unfocused, and beside her, Luke was struggling to sit still.

His restlessness made Han smile crookedly. He and his brother-in-law were definitely hands-on people. They didn't, he thought wryly as he glanced in his wife's direction, take the time to discuss things with a committee.

His wife shot him a glance as she picked up on that thought, and Han beamed at her innocently. While not a full Jedi like her brother, Leia Organa Solo was still quite capable of reading Han's emotions. She shook her head at him and turned back to Mon Mothma, listening as the older woman droned on about the usefulness of the arrangement between respectable government and smugglers. They were still negotiating means of payment and just how much information the smugglers were willing to give, and Han suspected they would continue to negotiate for the next few days.

Luckily, it would be Mara who would be saddled with that chore. Han himself could kick back and relax.

From across the table, Luke sent him an amused look, catching onto the other's thoughts just as easily has his sister had. Han shrugged and smiled, and Luke hid a grin of his own. Mara rolled her eyes at them both.

"Shall we adjourn for tonight, then?" Mon Mothma asked, and Han's attention snapped back to her. There were several murmurs of agreement from the rest of the Council and heartier comments from the smugglers. Mon Mothma smiled a bit at the last. "Very well, this session will continue tomorrow at the same time. Enjoy the remainder of your evening."

Han shot out of his seat and stretched, then took several long strides to place himself next to his wife.

"Let's get out of here, your highness," he said. Leia glanced up at him and shook her head, amused in spite of herself.

"You know I can't just rush out. Besides, I wanted to have a word with Mara-"

"Mara's not going anywhere for a couple of days," he interrupted, tugging her out of the conference room. "We need to spend a quiet evening alone with the twins. No Chewie, no Winter, and no Noghri."

She murmured a few more protests, but Han knew he was weakening her quickly. A few moments later, and they'd made their escape.

Luke watched them go, smiling a little. Han was right, they did deserve some time alone together. Especially with the children. He turned to Mara, who had stood and hesitated. She was clearly unsure if she should stick around and answer more questions, or disappear like Han and Leia had. He caught her eye.

"Better make your getaway while you still can," he commented, and she made a low noise of agreement.

"Cover me?" she asked.

"Certainly," he replied, reaching playfully for his lightsaber.

She lifted an eyebrow. "By the look of things, we just might need that."

Luke laughed and bowed low. "After you," he said, and she began pushing her way toward the door. He followed, weaving through people with minor difficulty.

"Well, guess that's a night then," Mara commented when he joined her a moment later, just outside the conference room doors. Luke smiled, throwing a cautious glance over his shoulder.

"Looks like it. Good luck with the rest of the negotiations. I trust this means you'll be on planet for a few days?"

She eyed him as they started down the corridor. "Yeah, I suppose it does."

"Well," he said, too cheerfully, "we might run into each other then.you know, around the Palace."

She smirked, thinking again that he pretty much sucked at subtlety. "We might," she replied, her tone noncommittal. Luke brightened. She hadn't just dismissed the suggestion, which meant that there was a chance he _would_ see her again.

"Well, see ya around, Skywalker," she said as they reached the turbolifts.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her where she was going, but he decided against that at the last second. After all, up until a few days ago she'd wanted to kill him. It was better not to push his luck. Instead, he offered that courtly little bow again.

"See ya around, Mara."

--

Mara shook her head as the she exited the turbolift and entered one of the numerous Palace topcafs. Habit had her scanning the occupants of the room, and she quickly spotted a familiar face. After a brief hesitation, she headed that way.

She'd met Wedge Antilles, leader of the now-infamous Rogue Squadron, when he'd sprung the _Etherway_ out of impoundment on Abregado. One of Karrde's people-Fynn Torve-had managed to get it seized, but after some rather botched dealings, Han Solo had promised to return the ship to the organization. When Mara had gone to retrieve it, Antilles was there, and he'd been friendly enough at the time.

She moved confidently toward him, determined not to run off to a corner and eat alone. It was time to make some changes in her life, and this would be a good first step. Or, second step. Her real first step was not killing Skywalker, or so she told herself.

"Antilles," she said amiably as she rested her arms on the bar next to him. He turned those chocolate brown eyes up to her face and smiled a little.

"Luke said you didn't like to use first names," he commented.

"Did he now?" Perhaps not killing him hadn't been such a good idea after all. She smirked at the thought.

"Yeah. So, word is you could be helping us out with that Smuggler's Alliance thing," he said.

She shrugged. "Yeah, I took the job."

"Luke'll be happy, then. He and Karrde fought hard to have you named liaison."

Mara blinked at that, but otherwise her face remained impassive. "I was just a smuggler's assistant," she pointed out.

Antilles nodded. She sensed a slight flicker in his mind, something he wanted to ask her about. Something that paired her name with Skywalker's. Wisely, however, he kept his mouth sealed.

"I was just a pilot," he finally said aloud, "now I'm commanding the Rogue Squadron."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but understood the point he was trying to make. Given time, she was beginning to think she could like Antilles.

"Your squadron's pretty famous," she commented, scrambling for small talk.

"Yeah, I guess we are. We're just doing our jobs, really. Besides, Luke should get all the credit for that. He made us famous way back in the war days."

Mara snorted, wondering if anything Antilles said didn't have to do with Skywalker. For the time being, she'd just have to get used to it. Most everyone in the New Republic had a serious batch of hero-worship regarding their precious Jedi, or so it seemed. The only exception, perhaps, was Organa Solo's assistant, Winter, who'd never said a word about the saintly Jedi Knight. Of course, she hadn't really said much of anything that wasn't of immediate impact to the current situation. Rumor had it that the woman had a perfect memory.

That made her dangerous, or it would have in the old days. But the old days were long gone, and Winter was no longer a threat, not even to the Ex-Emperor's Hand.

"He certainly does get a lot of the limelight, doesn't he?" Mara asked aloud, reverting her attention back to the X-Wing pilot. He had nice features, hair that seemed to fall forever over his forehead, no matter how hard he tried to push the errant strands back. He wasn't particularly tall, nor was he likely to turn heads, but he had a steadfast, patient quality that won people over in the long run. His friendly smile and approachable manner helped, as well.

"Actually." Antilles smiled into his drink. "Actually, I think that's the part he hates the most. He's always insisting that Han and Lando are at least equally heroic, and that Leia's done more for the Rebellion and the New Republic than anyone else. If he had a choice."

"I get it, I get it.the humble, modest, perfect example of an aw-shucks farmboy," Mara concluded dryly, signaling for her own drink.

Antilles shrugged. "You asked."

She pulled a face. "I gotta stop doing that."

He grinned a little crookedly. "At least where Luke's concerned, right?"

"Men have lost body parts for less," she warned, and he grinned a little wider but made no further comments. They drank together for a few blessedly quiet moments, and then Mara straightened.

"I'd better get back to work."

Antilles nodded and lifted his glass in salute. "Nice talking to you, Ms. Jade."

"Mara's fine," she called over her shoulder, and walked briskly out of the topcaf, leaving the pilot smiling to himself.

_The Emperor's Hand, the last Jedi . . .and her little twitches at the mention of his name. Could be more there than meets the eye, _he thought, and drained the last of his Corellian whiskey.


	2. Chapter 02

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The Author's Notes: I'd like to apologize for the long and unexpected delay. Believe me, I didn't plan on leaving the story hanging like that. I've had the chapter done for a while now, but I've more than a few problems. Anyway, I'm back on track now and I promise to update more regularly.

Mara may seem a little out of character at the end of this chapter . . . I do apologize for that as well, but . . . the part was too much fun to write and I didn't want to chop it out. This chapter is shorter then I'd hoped, but it serves its purpose. Please enjoy! And do leave me a review if you've got a minute.

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Disclaimer: Star Wars is copywrite its respective owners and creators (in this case in particular, Timothy Zahn and George Lucas). I have no intent of making money off of this piece (it wouldn't sell in the first place), nor do I seek to deliberately infringe on copywrite laws. This is just some fun I cooked up in my somewhat twisted little mind.

[thank you to the reviewers:] Julie, Hewgleymom, Urazz, Jedi-2B, Ariapaige, Jenna Marrd, Deja Know I Been Lookin For Vu, kayladie; thank you so much! You all made me feel a whole lot more secure about writing this fic. Urazz, your comments were great! And I'm sorry for the scare, hewgleymom! This one's for you guys. Now, without any further ado . . .

Eye of the Beholder

Chapter 2

Six days of negotiations had passed without much progress, and tensions were running high. The talks were proceeding as peacefully as a Bantha birthing, neither side trusting the other. The New Republic was unyielding, the smugglers uncomfortable and impatient. Time, after all, was money, and the longer they sat in discussion with the hierarchy of the New Republic, the greater their losses. And things had come to a searing head after the smugglers had been dismissed from the day's proceedings.

Luke headed down the halls at a brisk walk. He hadn't attended the negotiations that day, having instead to assist the Rogues in a training exercise. He regretted that now, after feeling the outburst in the Force. As soon as he could, he gracefully dismissed himself from the Squadron's company.

He covered the ground between them quickly, and pushed open the door to the now-abandoned conference room. Or, mostly abandoned. As his eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting, he spotted a single, familiar figure.

Mara.

Her head was down, that firestorm of red-gold hair tumbling over her shoulders to mask her face. Those shoulders were slumped, but her fists were clenched, and her frustration was almost palpable. Slowly, as she became aware of his presence, her flashing emerald eyes lifted to his gaze and invisible lighting crackled between them.

For a moment Luke hesitated. Mara would not allow him to comfort her, that much he knew, but he couldn't just do nothing. Finally, he took a step toward her. Her eyes flashed again—dangerously—at the movement.

"Don't come near me," she snapped.

He froze, but did not lower his earnest gaze. "What did they say to you, Mara?"

"What do you care?"

The ice in her tone stung him, but the thought of someone upsetting her was enough to keep him there, seeking answers in spite of the jab.

"If they've treated you inappropriately, I can do something about it," he told her quietly. She sneered.

"I doubt you'd go so far as to discipline one of your own senators. Besides," she growled, "I fight my own battles."

Luke set his jaw and walked the last few steps to put her within arm's reach. He forced her to keep her gaze locked with his.

"I know that, Mara. You're the most capable, independent woman I've ever met. But you don't have to fight me—I'm on your side."

Mara's eyes sparked and she turned away from him.

"I don't need your sympathy or your help. If you think I can't handle Fey'lya, you've got another thing coming."

"Ah." Realization dawned in Luke's voice. "Fey'lya."

"Skywalker, I suggest you back off right now and mind your own damn business."

"These negotiations are my business. Look, Mara, I'm sorry I wasn't there today, but Leia and Wedge—"

She whirled, the sparks in her eyes igniting into flames. "I don't care," she bit out, and headed for the door. As she slammed her palm into the door's release panel, Luke spoke up one last time.

"He won't get away with this, Mara. I trust you, and so will the Board."

Those emerald eyes turned his way one last time before she disappeared into the corridor beyond. Luke stood for a moment in the silence, then left through the doors on the opposite side of the room, making for his apartment.

-*-

Talon Karrde was just as frustrated with the negotiations as his assistant. He sat in his quarters on the _Wild Karrde_, frowning. Mara had just contacted him with the latest news, if it could be called that. Really, all she'd told him was that things were still at a standstill, and several smugglers were threatening to walk out.

To make things that much worse, some people in the New Republic had decided to use Mara's shadowed past to their advantage.

Wearily, Karrde wondered if they should call the whole thing off. Mara would then be free to come back to work, and these frustrating dealings would be over. With the _Wild Karrde_ only three days out from Coruscant, she could easily reach them and be back to work in five days.

Had this really been partly his idea? At least back when Thrawn was alive they'd all had a common enemy. Without even that, the whole arrangement appeared ready to crumble.

And perhaps they were better off that way. Or perhaps . . .

"Aves," he said suddenly, keying on the comm to the bridge.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Have someone prep the _Etherway_. When we get to the base, prepare a small crew. Then set course for the outer rim. I'll tell you more later."

"You got it."

Karrde leaned back and closed his eyes, wondering if this was the wisest course he could take. At the moment, however, it appeared to be the only course he could take.

-*-

While her boss contemplated a somewhat dangerous mission, Mara sat quietly in the apartment Leia Organa-Solo had found her. It offered a spectacular view from its western-facing balcony, and it had a spacious kitchen. Her room was quite large, too, and she was just a short walk from the turbo lift that could take her directly to her usual landing pad. But the beauty and relaxation her apartment normally offered was lost on her now.

No matter what Skywalker said, nobody in that room trusted her. Exceptions were few and far between—Han and Leia, and Karrde's employees. They were the only ones that put any value in her word. Not even the other smugglers thought her on their side, and that was Skywalker's fault. It was a difficult situation that backed her into a corner. Not for the first time, she wished she'd have left Skywalker floating in his X-Wing in space. Then Thrawn would have found him . . .

. . . and the Empire would have won.

She sighed and headed toward the balcony, those blue eyes haunting her thoughts. Skywalker was on her mind a little too often for comfort these days.

He certainly never failed to amaze her. He put so much trust in her—his assassin. His enemy. But there was respect and genuine farm boy faith—and that was slowly eroding her heavily fortified mental defense.

Mara grimaced as she realized he wasn't even horrible company. Oh, sure, they generally snapped each other's heads off and usually brought out the worst in both personalities, there was a sort of comfort in that no matter what, the New Republic's pillar would support even the old Empire's castoff. She wasn't sure how she felt about that—or her own reaction to his support. Was she getting soft already?

She shook her head and moved toward the balcony, letting her mind clear as the breeze tugged at her hair. No more Skywalker, at least not tonight. She leaned out, arms braced on the railing, and stared out over Coruscant as the sun slipped toward the horizon.

"Mara?" came a too-familiar, startled voice to her left.

"I don't believe it," she mumbled under her breath as she turned to confirm her suspicion. Yup, there he was, on a balcony just above her and to her left. Luke Skywalker, the bane of her existence, was living in a suite just above her.

"Hi, Skywalker." She tried not to make it too much of a snarl.

"Hi," he replied with a polite smile, and then looked back off toward the sunset once more and let silence descend once more. Mara couldn't believe it. He wasn't going to try and talk about the incident with Fey'lya?

She stood there, trying her best to ignore him and fully appreciate the fact that—for once—he wasn't talking a subject to death. It didn't last long.

"You're not talking," she said finally, craning her head to look up at him. Skywalker grinned down at her.

"I didn't think you'd want to chat."

"I don't," she agreed firmly, and sealed her lips. Skywalker's grin didn't fade.

"Then why'd you call up here?" he asked.

Mara rubbed her temples, feeling a headache come on. She looked up to snap a retort, but found he'd turned his attention to the horizon again. Mara watched him for a moment, then she moved toward the door. As she touched the door panel, Luke called down to her one last time.

"Fey'lya has dropped from the Board," he told her. Mara glazed up at him sharply.

"What did you say to him?" she bit out. Skywalker shook his head, regarding her with serious blue eyes.

"Nothing," he said. "You said you would handle it, so I didn't say anything. Leia told me tonight when I stopped by to see the twins."

"Convenient," she muttered.

"Whatever his reasons, it really rather is," Skywalker commented. "I'm sure things will proceed much smoother from here on out." He paused as if he were going to add something else, then shook his head and refocused on her. "That said, goodnight Mara."

He moved toward the entrance to his own apartment. Mara hesitated, thinking she should just let him go, not say anything, but gave into the urge as he keyed open his own door. "Goodnight, Skywalker," she replied.

He turned, looking a little surprised, but rather pleased as well. He offered her the first real smile he'd flashed that evening, gave a nod, and disappeared inside. Mara shook her head, wondering just what she'd been thinking, and slipped into her own apartment.

But Skywalker was wrong about one thing. The negotiations the next day were no easier, and in fact tensions had risen. Suspicion was evident on both sides; the smugglers were convinced Fey'lya left in a maneuver to make them drop their guards, the New Republic was certain that Fey'lya had been threatened in some way. Mara tried to reason with them, but there was nothing to it. No one was willing to listen to the former Emperor's Hand. Finally, Mon Mothma simply called a recess and demanded that they all rest for a few days before trying again. Mara shoved away from the desk she was seated at and stalked out of the room, feeling her temper reach near-meltdown proportions. Leia Organa-Solo had been passing by on her way to pick up papers from her office when she spotted the redhead. She jogged to catch up, brown eyes concerned.

"Is everything all right? How are things going in there?" she asked. Han had insisted on a maternity leave, so Leia was absent from the negotiations. She did know, however, that things were going roughly.

"Get someone else to be your damned liaison," Mara snapped, not even bothering to glance at the other woman. Leia frowned.

"It's that bad?"

"Worse. I say we should let everyone get back to their jobs. We're all losing money."

Leia's step didn't falter, despite the icy chill in Mara's tone. "We can't do that," she argued. "We need the ships and supplies too much, you know that. And the information the smugglers can give us is of the utmost importance. We're so close, Mara," she said, earnestness lacing her words. Mara could definitely see the resemblance between the Skywalker twins now—they had the same earnest gaze, the same hopefully desperate tone.

"It's not going to work. Nobody trusts anybody, least of all me," she told her darker-haired companion.

"I know it seems that way now, but you have to give it time and patience."

Mara's emerald eyes flashed. "Neither of which I have. I should be with Karrde, establishing a new home base and forging new contacts. Maybe running some trades of my own. _Not_ here, with a batch of too-suspicious people who are unwilling to compromise. And," she added, her voice taking on a dangerous edge, "tell your brother to stop doing me favors."

Leia's chocolate-toned eyes looked confused at the last, but she nodded in spite of her bewilderment.

"I understand your frustration," she said. "Believe me, I do. Just keep trying for a while longer, all right?"

Mara slowed and regarded the other, assessing the request. Leia had no love for the ex-assassin, but she seemed confident in Mara's abilities, and had faith in the trust her brother put in the dangerous woman. And while Mara herself was tempted to tell the politician to shove off, she knew how much help the Smuggler's Alliance could be if they could come to an agreement. Slowly, she nodded.

"All right, I'll give it a couple more meetings. After that, no promises."

Leia beamed warmly, and suddenly her resemblance to her brother was much more recognizable. "Thank you, Mara," she said.

Mara shrugged off the gratitude and continued her walk toward the turbo lifts. Leia stared after her.

_Maybe,_ she thought, _Luke's got the right idea about her after all._

-*-**_Several Days Later_**-*-

"You know," Mara muttered, torn between annoyed and annoyed amusement, "you don't have to come to every session."

"The last time I didn't show up, Fey'lya acted up. Besides," Luke added with a slight smile, "someone's got to keep that wrist blaster of yours holstered."

Mara rolled her eyes and fingered the blaster he'd mentioned. She made sure Luke saw the movement, and caught his eyes watching warily. She couldn't tell if he was jesting or really nervous, but figured it was—appropriately—a mix of both.

"Well, you don't have to follow me around like this, Skywalker," she snapped, though her mild amusement stripped the usual fire out of the comment. Luke quirked an eyebrow, something tugging the corners of his lips involuntarily curl upwards.

"I'm well aware of the danger, Mara," he replied. "Look, as much as it's tempting to let you think that the only reason I'm going to the negotiations is to annoy you, there _is_ another reason."

She eyed him, clearly skeptical.

"These negotiations are important to the New Republic, and to my sister. I want to be able to keep her updated. _And_," he added, those blue eyes dancing, "I have a feeling my services as a mediator might be needed, though the negotiations are restarting just today."

Mara shook her head and sighed, willing herself to be frustrated. It was hard, with him in such good humor and her as relaxed as she ever got. The break had done her good, as much as she'd liked to have denied it. And while she was still uncomfortable with him, his good mood was rubbing off on her. Only he had that effect on her--to share his moods with her—and it was something she wasn't used to.

"Look, Skywalker," she said with another eye roll, "that's all very well and nice, but that doesn't mean you can follow _me_ around."

Luke glanced at her with wide, put-out blue eyes. "If that's how you feel, Mara . . . " He trailed off.

"Shut up, Skywalker," she growled, a reluctant smile finding her lips at his act.

"You keep saying my name, I'm starting to get paranoid." He flashed a little-boy grin and dipped into a slight bow. "See you inside," he added, and jogged over to some of the Rogue pilots also trailing through the hallway. Mara watched him go, wondering what the pilots were doing on this floor of the Palace. Luke had told her they avoided this hall at all costs. Shrugging it off, she made her way resolutely to the conference hall scheduled for the negotiations.


	3. Chapter 03

**__**

The Author's Notes: Not much this time. I'm going to throw in some stuff from later in the Expanded Universe that you might remember from the books, but it will be different because of the context of this story. Lando should be making his appearance soon, since I love him so much and wouldn't dare leave him out of this story. It's going to look like there are a lot of loose sub-plots running around, but I promise to resolve them by the end. Enjoy and review!

Disclaimer_: Star Wars is copywrite its respective owners and creators (in this case in particular, Timothy Zahn and George Lucas). I have no intent of making money off of this piece (it wouldn't sell in the first place), nor do I seek to deliberately infringe on copywrite laws. This is just some fun I cooked up in my somewhat twisted little mind._

[thank you to the reviewers:] Deja Know I've Been Lookin For Vu, kayladie, ariapaige, Urazz and CMarie, thanks for reading! Deja, I hope this was fast enough to keep you happy! Deja and Kayladie, I'm glad you liked Key'lya's part. I hate that guy ( . . . er, Bothan . . . ) too. Paige, I hope this answers your pilot question and thanks for the compliment. CMarie, thanks for your support! I'm glad I didn't screw up the characters. Urazz, I'm glad someone's watching out for my grammar mistakes. I'm definitely NOT the grammar queen.

Just a side note: While I can't promise to keep up with every-other-day/daily updates, I CAN promise it won't be a month before the next chapter comes out. In fact, it's almost done. Hope you're enjoying this!

Eye of the Beholder

Chapter 3

Mara slid into her seat in the conference room, taking in the scene. The smugglers looked a bit more relaxed now that they'd had some time to check on their businesses and review their organizations' activities. The New Republic representatives still looked vaguely uneasy with their questionable company, making Mara itch to point out that they'd been no more than rebellious scum once, too. That, however, would not win them over, so she allowed them to think that they were as high and mighty as they looked. Shaking her head to clear it of murderous thoughts, she pulled out a data pad and reviewed her notes, ready to bring up the next set of main points she wanted to discuss.

She had skimmed to a point about halfway through the list when Luke slid into the seat next to her, looking troubled. His eyes, ever expressive, had darkened to a stormy blue-grey, and his generous lips had been drawn into a straight line. Mara was going to let it pass without comment, but she caught an inkling of his mood through the Force and decided—albeit reluctantly—to make an inquiry.

"What's got you so wound up, Skywalker? Did they take lunch off the itinerary?" she asked, hoping to get a rise out of the Jedi. He glanced at her, not responding to her good-natured jab.

"I know why Fey'lya dropped his position on the Board," he said seriously, the storm in his eyes still swirling ominously.

Mara sighed. "Well, from the look of you, it can't be good."

"With Fey'lya," Luke muttered darkly, his Jedi calm straining, "it's _never _good."

"So are you going to tell me or are you going to continue being secretive about it?" she asked, lifting a perfectly shaped red-gold eyebrow. A wry half-smile appeared on his lips as he thought about that for a second. When she fingered her wrist blaster in warning, he decided to tell her. The smile disappeared as he braced himself to give up the information.

"Fey'lya wants to pull the funding for the Rogue Squadron," he said quietly. Mara's eyes narrowed.

"He can't do that. The squadron means too much to your little republic," she reminded him. Luke shook his head.

"He also wants to court martial Wedge. Apparently," he added bitterly, "he hasn't forgotten Wedge's part in the battle for the _Katana_ fleet."

"Idiot," she growled, her eyes narrowing further.

"It doesn't stop there. He says that Han and I expedited the situation and should be punished as well. He can't go after Leia, so she's been exempt from his accusations, and no one can find your boss to accuse him, either."

"Doesn't he know how bogus that sounds? Besides, that battle was over months ago, and those accusations resolved during the fight."

Luke sighed and spread his hands. "That's what we all thought, anyway," he agreed. "I don't know why Fey'lya's waited this long to bring it up, either, but there are some serious accusations flying around. And Wedge is in the most danger of getting the brunt of it. Fey'lya far outranks him in political power."

"Antilles is a war hero. Certainly your government will remember that," Mara pointed out. Luke shook his head.

"I hope you're right and they're that reasonable, Mara," he murmured. "Wedge has done as much for this government as any of us. We wouldn't have made it without him. _I_ wouldn't have made it without him." His thoughts trailed away to Yavin, to the first Death Star battle, when Luke finally realized what war was. Mara fell silent, allowing him to relive one of the best and worst moments of his life. She knew he was considering the friends he'd lost, innocents he'd killed, and systems he'd probably saved—his eyes said it all.

_So expressive_, she thought to herself. _So open._

Dangerous. To be read so easily was to invite enemies to exploit weaknesses. Mara knew how to clamp her emotions down, to tuck them away, so that no one ever knew what was going on behind her mask.

No one but Luke, that was.

Somehow he always knew. A damn annoying trait, or so Mara saw it. Her eyes trailed away as she refocused on the data pad and tried to force him out of her mind. Luke Skywalker was none of her business, and neither was the Rogue Squadron. He had his problems, she had hers. And hers was starting in five minutes.

Luke sat silently for a few long moments, then shifted and cast the memories aside. The past was what shaped the future, but dwelling wouldn't get him anywhere at all. In the present once more, he stretched out with the Force to gage the emotional level in the room, not surprised to discover suspicion, annoyance, and wariness in abundant levels. Disheartening, but these were troubled times. The confusion left over from Thrawn's push for control of the galaxy left the New Republic reeling with shock, but no one was allowed to retreat and lick their wounds. The systems that were attacked, the planets who'd been preparing to join the New Republic, and the refugees left from numerous battles all had to be calmed and reassured in the New Republics stability and support. Not to mention the task of pushing the Empire back to its previous borders.

He sighed, feeling the weight of the coming months sink onto his shoulders. With Leia on maternity leave, Luke had to be the politician of the family—something that had never been one of his strong points. He glanced at Mara and realized that she was in the same situation.

"I'm sorry I got you into all this," he murmured to her quietly. Mara shot him a look, surprise flickering across her gaze before disappearing quickly. Then she shrugged and turned away again, unwilling to speak lest she find herself warming up to him.

He really hadn't been expecting an answer anyway, knowing her feelings about him were still confused and her wounds still too raw. He allowed the silence to stretch until the meeting started. Then he was drawn into hearty debates about wages and the downsides of the smugglers becoming a legitimate part of the New Republic. He could feel Mara's frustration growing as she struggled to be heard. He was wrestling with his own agitation, his temper further darkening as the fighting continued. It seemed that nothing would be agreed upon with everyone yelling at each other, and he'd long ago forgotten just what the yelling had started about.

By the time the meeting let out, Luke was in a foul state of mind. His muscles were tight and cramped from frustration and lack of movement. With a muttered goodbye to Mara and a slight nod to everyone else, he disappeared toward the workout rooms. He had a lot to work out for himself, and exercise seemed like just the way to do it.

Mara hesitated before following him. She didn't want to be anywhere near him, especially with her temper on such a tight leash, but the thought of pummeling something was tempting. Finally, her desire to hit something won out over her wariness of Skywalker, and she headed toward the workout rooms as well. She did, however, choose a room as far from his as she could.

It was there that Leia found her. The former princess had been practicing with her new Force skills and had pinpointed Mara's location with only minor difficulty. She watched the ex-assassin for a moment, appreciating the tight control Mara kept of her body, and the fluidity of her moves. The redhead had unmatched skills in hand-to-hand combat, and Leia found herself wincing in sympathy for the other's imagined foe. Then she idly wondered if Mara was imagining Luke as her opponent, and some of her misgivings about the woman returned. Slowly, she entered the training room.

"It's still rough going." It wasn't even a question. Mara, never breaking her tempo, nodded as she landed a punch to the bag's midsection. It had already received quite a beating from the ex-Hand, and swung wildly on its chain.

"Not even your ever-calm brother could get through to them. Hard-headed sith-spawn," she snapped. Leia sighed, feeling her hopes for the Smuggler's Alliance begin to ebb once more.

"That's too bad."

"I," the redhead said flatly, narrowing her eyes to slam home the point, "couldn't care less."

But Leia knew that wasn't true. It was obvious that she was regarding the negotiations as a failure, and if there was anything Mara Jade hated more than Luke Skywalker, it was failure.

"I see. So you're giving up?"

The redhead whirled on her, temper flaring at the implication that she was a quitter.

"No one could work with those people," she snapped. "No one. I didn't want the damn job in the first place, remember? Your Jedi-crazy brother talked me into it in a weak moment. They're not going to give in, any of them, so I'm getting out before I start shooting in a rage."

Leia regarded the woman with cool, unimpressed eyes. "I see," she said simply. "Well, I don't know why I was expecting anything different. Have you told Luke?"

"Skywalker has nothing to do with this," Mara bit out darkly.

"On the contrary. He worked quite hard to make sure you got this job as liaison, and has quite a bit of faith in you. He'll be more than disappointed when he finds out."

"Boo hoo," the redhead snapped coldly. "I feel _so _terrible."

"Why are you acting this way?" Leia asked suddenly, moving instinctively toward the other woman. "What could you possibly resent so much? Luke's gone out of his way to make you feel welcome, to show you his trust. He'd offer you anything if you'd just learn to trust him back."

Mara backed away from the smaller woman, eyes spitting laser fire. "Trust isn't the issue here."

"Isn't it?"

"No." It was said with finality. Leia crossed her arms as she stopped moving.

"Than what is?" she countered.

Mara remained stonily silent, refusing to admit that somehow, Skywalker got to her. It not only angered her, it scared her as well. And that fear flashed across her gaze before she could put a leash on it. Leia caught it, having been watching the other intently, and narrowed her own eyes.

"I don't know what you're so afraid of," she said slowly, "but Luke is not the enemy. The only person you're fighting against is you." With a swirl of regal robes, Leia had turned and was out the door. Mara stared after her, her mood even darker than before.

Finally, she turned back to the bag and began pounding into it once again, hoping that she'd gain a little respite from the memory of stormy blue eyes.

-*-

Leia stomped into the training room Luke was in, trying to dispel her anger. No wonder Mara and Luke sparred all the time. The woman was insufferable. Still fuming, she turned her gaze to her brother.

He wasn't yet aware of her presence—at least not visibly. He was too busy, moving in a sinuous dance with his lightsaber, parrying and thrusting, fighting something Leia couldn't see. He moved with such grace—so uncharacteristic of the blushing farm boy who'd rushed into her cell on the Death Star without so much as a thought about their way out.

_"I'm Luke Skywalker,"_ he'd said, all awkwardness and naïve innocence. _"I'm here to rescue you."_

_Not just me, though,_ she thought, her anger disappearing in a rush of affection for her brother. _He ended up saving countless lives, and even a few souls while he was at it._

Luke's eyes flashed to hers, catching that unshielded thought. A bit of a flush crept into his cheeks, though he chose to ignore his sister's unspoken praise.

"Hey, Leia," he said instead, not even breathless from the strenuous exercise.

"Hi," she answered, smiling at him. "Things aren't going so well in the negotiations, are they?"

He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, a distinctly Han-like gesture. "No," he admitted. "But then, did we really expect them to?"

"I guess not," she agreed. "But we sure did hope they would."

"And now there's Fey'lya to deal with." Luke sighed again. "Does it ever end?"

"No. Did you ever think it would?"

He smiled a little sheepishly, but it was hollow and didn't reach his eyes. "I guess not," he echoed, "but I sure did hope it would."

"I spoke with Mara," she added abruptly.

"Did you?" Luke's gaze turned wary, his uncertainty almost palpable. He never knew where he stood with the fiery-tempered Jade, and he didn't like the look in Leia's eyes.

"She seems determined to give up on the Alliance."

His disappointment washed quietly over her through their bond in the Force, and for a moment Leia regretted telling him.

"I guess I can't blame her. I was ready to result to violence myself," he said softly, turning his downcast blue eyes elsewhere. "At least she gave it a decent shot."

"You mean, at least she didn't turn you down outright," Leia corrected. Luke gave a wry but impersonal smile.

"A few months ago, she would have pulled her blaster on me for even asking." He glanced at the lightsaber in his hand. "She's dangerous," he murmured as an afterthought. "Captivating, but deadly."

Leia realized he was likening her to his weapon, and wondered what meaning lay behind that. It was possible that he was even likening her to his decision to become a Jedi and all the highs and lows that came with that lifestyle. His lightsaber represented all that was good and bad about the Force, just as Mara must have represented all that was good and bad about his character. No one brought out the worst in Luke like Mara.

"She is that," Leia agreed, and decided to change the subject. "She can also make her own decisions. But, why don't we worry about all of this later? How about you have dinner with us tonight? I know the twins would love to see their Uncle Luke."

For the first time since she'd walked in, her brother truly smiled.

"I'd love to," he agreed, and grabbed his towel. "I'll get showered up and meet you at your apartments."

He dropped a quick kiss to her cheek and disappeared in the direction of the men's locker room. Glad that she'd managed to cheer Luke out of his somber mood, Leia headed back to her home to set another placemat on the table.

-*-

"Hey, kid!"

Luke grinned, feeling his spirits lift as Han thumped him soundly on the back.

"Hi, Han," he replied. "Is dinner ready?"

"Patience, kid, patience." Han grinned back and drew his brother-in-law further into the living room. "How ya been? Heard the negotiations have been rough."

"That's one way of putting it," Luke replied wryly, still smiling. "A brawl would be a more fitting term. But I didn't come here to talk about the negotiations."

"Right," the older man agreed. "You came to eat our food and enjoy our wine."

"As well as the company," Luke put in defensively, laughing with his old friend.

"Fess up, kid—you'd eat with anyone as long as the food was free and there was plenty of it."

The shorter man shrugged sheepishly, still smiling. "Maybe, but I like your place the best."

"Thanks, kid," Han replied with an eye roll. "Want to see the terrors?"

"Lead the way."

Luke followed the taller man into the nursery where Jacen and Jaina lay in their crib. Their eyes, the same deep brown as their mother's, blinked up at him. When he leaned closer, he saw the flecks of green in their irises, something inherited from their roguish father.

"Hi," he cooed to them softly, lifting them both with the Force. He felt his heart soar at their little laughs and drew them into his body. Their baby-scent filled his nostrils as he hugged them close. Everything else drifted away for a moment as he connected with them through the Force. He loved holding them, protecting them even from gravity. There was nothing he cherished more than his family and its new additions.

He stayed like that for a long time, cooing to them through the Force, sending them love and warmth. He marveled at his powerful emotion for the little babies, and their more rudimentary show of those same emotions for him.

He looked up only when Leia stepped into the room, watching him with her heart in her eyes. She ached for him, knowing that as much as he loved the babies, their arrival made him feel lonely--an outsider looking in on a family he didn't always feel a part of anymore. He smiled at her in reassurance.

"Don't worry about me, Leia," he said softly. "I know which family I'm a part of." He glanced at Han. "This old scoundrel wouldn't let me forget if I tried."

Han grunted, not needing the Force to understand the undercurrent of emotions between his wife and brother-in-law.

"You're damn right I wouldn't," he agreed vehemently, then glanced at his children. "And don't you two repeat that word."

The somber mood was broken at his wisecrack, and Leia rolled her eyes. "Come on, you old nerf. Dinner's ready."

Han followed her out, glancing over his shoulder at Luke. His brother-in-law set the children back into their crib and murmured a goodbye. He must have used the Force to ease them to sleep, and then he looked up and met Han's gaze. Smiling, he joined his older companion and they strolled into the dining room together.

Once seated, the small family strayed away from the heavier topics that truly concerned them. They avoided mentioning Wedge's court martial and the Smuggler's Alliance. Luke studiously refused to speak about Mara at all, though Leia tried to get him to open up about her not long into the meal. Han kept the banter going to keep everyone smiling. They did far too little of that, especially since the New Republic had moved to Coruscant. He was just opening his mouth to tell them about a recent talk he'd had with Chewie, who was helping to transplant the Noghri onto a new homeworld, when someone knocked impatiently on the door. Luke's eyes darkened with an unnamable emotion as he glanced toward the door, and from that look Leia guessed who was on the other side.

"It's Mara," she told Han as she stood.

"There must be a good reason for her to come here," Luke murmured, his voice distant. Leia could her a trace of concern in those muted tones. He frowned as he probed the visitor's sense with the Force. "She wants me for something—something urgent."

"Guess we'd better answer the door, then," Han commented, trying to sound nonchalant and not quite pulling it off. He walked to the door, almost too casually, and Leia knew he was worried for Luke.

"Mara," he said as the door slid away, "what a pleasant surprise."

Her eyes narrowed at the dripping sarcasm in his voice, but she ignored him and gazed over his shoulder—straight at Luke.

"I need your help, Skywalker," she said matter-of-factly.

"What is it?" he asked, already taking inventory of what he had and what he'd need to get from his apartment for their next little venture.

"It's Karrde," she told him. "He's disappeared."

He glanced at her sharply. "No one's been able to find him for days, and _now_ you're worried?"

She shook her head. "I've been giving him updates on the Smuggler's Alliance negotiations, and he's always responded, but it's been three days since he last contacted me . . . "

"Do you know where he was headed?" He was strapping on his boots as he spoke. Mara shook her head again.

"No. He was on the _Etherway_. Aves told me he was en route to the Rim . . . But of course Karrde never mentioned a specific destination. He just told the others he'd be in touch."

"Sounds like he knew there'd be some trouble," Han commented. Mara nodded shortly.

"That's what I'm thinking. And now he's found it."

__

"Do you have a ship with room for my X-wing?"

Mara gave another short nod. Luke turned to his family. "Looks like I'm out of here. I'll be in touch," he promised, dropping a kiss to Leia's forehead. She looked decidedly uncomfortable with the way he was leaving, but didn't argue. Han nudge his brother-in-law before hugging him quickly.

"Take care of yourself, kid. We'll tell the Rogues where you headed in case you need back up, and I'll keep the _Falcon_ prepped. Unless you want me to come along?" he offered.

"No. Just Skywalker and I. The more people, the more chance of being spotted and attacked," the redhead stated firmly.

"Mara's right. We'll be fine. Don't worry," he added with a roguish grin, "it's me."

"That's exactly," Han replied dryly, "what I'm worried about."

It was obviously an old joke, and obviously the end of the conversation. Mara stepped forward and tugged on Luke's sleeve.

"Let's go," she said. He nodded down at her.

"Take care of my niece and nephew—and yourselves. You'll be the first people I want to see when I get back," he told them. Leia tucked herself into the comfort of her husband's side and nodded.

"Good luck," she said, eyes torn with worry and an intense desire to go with them.

"Hey kid," Han called as Luke and Mara stepped out of the door, "may the Force be with you."

Luke grinned and saluted them with his unlit lightsaber before disappearing down the hall after Mara at a brisk jog. Then Leia let out a long sigh.

"I better let the med center know—put them on standby."

Han chuckled, though he knew the humor was just a reflex to take the edge off of the worry already settling onto their shoulders. "He'll be fine. I mean, it's Luke . . . What kind of trouble could he _possibly_ get into?"

Leia looked up at him incredulously. "You're right, it _is_ Luke. And he's with Mara Jade. What kind of trouble do you _think_ he'll get into?"

"Right. I'll prep the _Falcon_ now, then."

"And I'll call the med center."

Han squeezed her shoulders and let her back to the table. "Come on, we'll need the strength," he told her, and they settled back down to finish their now-quiet meal.


	4. Chapter 04

**__**

The Author's Notes: I'm gonna say right off I hate how this chapter ends. I'm not sure why I hate how it ends, but I do. Also, I don't know much about politics, so you're forewarned if I totally screw something up, lol. And this may be a sin, but I tend to back away from the prequel stuff—so if I skewed some of the facts in the Lando part, feel free to point the inaccuracies out to me. The beginning of this chapter might be a little OOC, but it's main purpose is to establish Luke and Mara's bond in the Force. The fifth chapter should be up in a day or two (I'm on spring break so I'm pumping the chapters out while I've got the time). Thanks for the reviews, and please keep them up!

Disclaimer: _Star Wars is copywrite its respective owners and creators (in this case in particular, Timothy Zahn and George Lucas). I have no intent of making money off of this piece (it wouldn't sell in the first place), nor do I seek to deliberately infringe on copywrite laws. This is just some fun I cooked up in my somewhat twisted little mind_.

[thank you to the reviewers:] ariapaige, Deja Know I've Been Lookin For Vu, person who left the dashes, Jedi-2B, and Zizziana; a big shout-out! Thanks for the reviews! Paige, you're more than right about the medcenter . . . and I just couldn't resist throwing it in there. Deja, sorry about that alliteration—I think Fey'lya should just plop dead, too ( . . . methinks poison . . . ). Jedi-2B, thank you so much for compliment—I hope it shapes into a believable story. Zizziana, your comments were very much appreciated. I'm so glad you like it, and I hope I continue to please.

Thanks again you guys! Onto part four . . .

Eye of the Beholder

Chapter 4

The pain started in earnest as Mara snapped shut her pack. It had lingered since the negotiation meeting, perhaps before, and her temples now erupted with the awful sensation. She knew she couldn't afford to be slowed down by it, however, and tried to put the shooting agony at the back of her mind as she stepped out of her apartment. Her reluctant companion had gone on to his apartment to gather his own supplies and weapons. She began walking to the turbo lifts that would take her to his floor, trying to keep the pain at bay.

"That's quite a headache," Luke murmured, rubbing his own temples as he stepped out of the shadows just to the left of entrance to her apartment. Mara turned to him, mildly surprised at his level of stealth, a bit more surprised that they seemed to be sharing the same ailment.

"How do you do that?" she asked quietly, trying again to work past the sledgehammer pain lancing through her forehead. Luke smiled a bit wryly, his blue eyes darkened to gray and cloudy with the same agony.

"I'm not doing anything. It's the Force—and we seem to be sharing a bond through it."

"Lucky you," she commented sarcastically.

"Lucky _us_," he shot back. "I'd be willing to bet it works both ways."

She shrugged, impatient due to her uncomfortable condition. Luke seemed to shake himself out of a stupor and jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the turbo lifts.

"Come on—I know a healing technique that will erase this headache. I'll teach it to you," he offered. Mara hesitated, then slowly nodded. She was afraid of the two of them getting too close—of having a friend in him. An ally, sure, but not friend. Considering their past, it would be highly inappropriate. Besides, she didn't want any further attachment with the New Republic.

She entered Luke's apartment, taking in the few belongings and various holos. A holo of his young niece and nephew had a place of honor on the wall, and Mara caught a ripple of affection from Luke as he caught sight of it. He led her to his couch and motioned for her to sit. They sank down on the well-worn piece of furniture together, and then Luke reached for her temples. She stiffened instinctively, but didn't flinch away from his touch. His warm fingers made contact with the pressure points, and his eyes lanced into hers.

"Just close your eyes and try to relax," he told her softly, the tension leaving his own shoulders and face even as he asked her to do the same. Mara did as he asked, forcing herself to release her own tension.

He walked her through the process, explaining what he was doing as he did it. Miraculously, Mara felt the throbbing pain ebb away, draining from her completely. Then she tried out this new skill on her teacher. He smiled as his headache faded as well, pleased that his instruction had worked and that she had so skillfully picked up the new technique.

"Thank you," he said, and left her on the couch while he stuffed a pack with his own supplies.

"It shouldn't take us more than a few days to reach the Rim, and Aves thinks he can point us in the right direction," Mara said, coming back to the reason she'd had a headache in the first place. Luke nodded, moving into his bedroom to grab a few things.

"The Rogues will be on standby—but they've got their own problems. I never thought I'd see them in the political areas of the Palace. There's a first time for everything, I suppose."

Mara stood and wandered around the living room, glancing at his holos as she passed them. "We won't need them."

"We _hope_ we won't need them," he corrected, and reemerged from his bedroom with his pack full and securely shut. "But it never hurts to be prepared."

She let that pass without comment. "Ready?" she asked instead.

"Let's go," he agreed with a nod. They headed off for her landing pad.

-*-

Han frowned at the image in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. Before him, the image of Lando Calrissian frowned back. He'd interrupted the Solo's dinner to give Han some information about Fey'lya's recent—and questionable—activities.

"You have to admit it sounds like something he'd do," the darker man pointed out.

"I know. That's what bugs me so much," Han replied, sighing. "Fey'lya should have learned his lesson when he went after Ackbar, but to launch a slander campaign against _Luke_ of all people . . . "

"Awfully convenient that he's off on another rescue mission, too—not even around to defend himself. Very sneaky how Fey'lya's using Wedge and you as a cover up while he goes after him," Lando commented.

"But why Luke? He can't threaten Fey'lya's power. And why now?" Han asked.

"Don't tell me Luke hasn't brought up the idea of beginning to teach new Jedi?"

"Well, yeah, of course. He is the last of the Jedi . . . But _that_ can't be the reason Fey'lya wants to ruin him."

"Why not? There are quite a few Bothans that have had a strong distrust of the Jedi since the Emperor and Darth Vader began taking over the galaxy. Darth Vader was said to have been a powerful Jedi who turned evil after the demise of the planet Naboo. Naturally, if Fey'lya's part of that group, he'll use his power to sway the people against the return of the Jedi."

"Naboo?" Han frowned again. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"Leia's probably mentioned it to you. After all, Naboo is supposed to have strongly influenced Alderaan both politically and culturally as the power shifted to the Empire."

"And where did you glean all this information from, if I may be so bold?" Han asked, eyeing his secretive friend with a little suspicion. Lando shrugged.

"I've got contacts," he said mysteriously.

"Oh yeah? And who are they?"

Lando snorted and eyed Han a little incredulously. "You know better than I do that to reveal sources is bad business," he said, and Han shrugged.

"So why are you telling me this? I'm in hot water with Fey'lya as it is."

"_You_ are, but Fey'lya hasn't found the courage to go after _Leia_ yet."

"I see your point." Han paused, considering. "All right, I'll talk to her. But you'd better be damned certain of this. These are serious accusations, and if we're proven wrong Leia's reputation would be compromised."

"Don't worry, old buddy," Lando replied with a dashing smile. "When have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Would you like a list?"

The darker man looked wounded for a moment, but it was just an air and they both knew it. A second later, the entrepreneur had sobered again.

"Trust me, Han, I wouldn't put your wife on the line for nothing. I know that this could put her bid for Presidency at stake, and that's why I'm telling to keep this information very quiet until we can back it up with solid proof."

"How'd you know Leia wanted the Presidency?" Han asked, blinking.

"Like I said," Lando replied, flashing that debonair smile once again, "I have my contacts. They told me she was considering taking over when Mon Mothma steps down. Anyway, I'll talk to you later, buddy. I've got a business to run."

"Yeah, see ya," Han replied, and shook his head.

_He's never out of the game long,_ he thought as he trailed back into the kitchen.

-*-

They had Wedge over for drinks that night, and the dark-haired pilot looked about as miserable as Han had ever seen him. Until the proceedings were over, he was effectively grounded, something that never failed to bring the normally-jovial man down. Like a fish out of water, Wedge couldn't be out of the sky for too long before he started to crumble.

"I'm so sorry about all of this, Wegde," Leia said as the drinks were poured. "You don't deserve it."

"I just thought that whole situation had been dealt with _months_ ago . . ." The pilot sighed despondently. "I feel bad for the Squadron. They're grounded too, thanks to me."

"This is not your fault, Wedge," Leia argued. "Besides, Fey'lya won't manage to get the funding pulled--your Squadron has saved this government far too many times for that to even be an option."

"Thanks Leia," he said, smiling warmly at his old friend. He could remember the early days, when she'd been so distant—the Royal Princess of Alderaan, untouchable in her white robes of state. Beautiful, and on a level somewhere far above the rest of the Rebellion's rabble, she had always represented the cause that they'd been fighting so hard for. Now that she'd made that cause more than a dream, he realized how much it had taken out of her. She looked tired, fed up with the petty disputes. He knew she'd never admit it, but when Thrawn had been around, she had regained a bit of the old fire that used to color her steps. She must have felt useful again, doing some real, hands-on fighting. Since his death, that had drained away in political squabbling over just how to handle the aftermath of the latest crisis.

"We'll have you back out there with the stars in no time," Han added, interrupting Wedge's thoughts. He dove into his drink like a man lost in the desert.

"What bothers me is that Fey'lya's pushing ahead with the court martial though he can't have a very strong case. Karrde and Bel Iblis saw to that during the battle. So either he's drudged up some ancient law that empowers him or there's something else going on here," Leia said. Han cleared his throat.

_No time like the present_, he thought, and opened his mouth to plunge in.

"I think I know what he's up to," he said slowly. Wedge and Leia turned their attention to him, surprised.

"Well?" his wife urged.

"Well, we think—I mean, I think—that he's out to discredit Luke."

Wedge exchanged a glance with Leia, and Han could see their hesitation. He continued.

"I know how it sounds—I didn't believe it either, at first, but La—I don't think that Fey'lya's comfortable with Luke's plans to bring the Jedi back into the galaxy."

"I know that Fey'lya's got no lost love for Luke," Wedge said as he considered the idea, "but are you sure _that's_ why he's court marshaling me and bringing up charges against you two?"

"We both know that there are a lot of beings out there who would rather not see the Jedi come back," Han pointed out.

"And you think Fey'lya's one of those beings." It wasn't a question. Leia's eyes were thoughtful as she tried to think of anything that would link the Bothan to anti-Jedi activities.

"I think it's pretty likely, considering the circumstances," her husband agreed. "But we should worry about Wedge's case first. After all, the kid blew up the Death Star, defeated Darth Vader _and_ the Emperor, and has become the figurehead of the New Republic. Fey'lya's gonna have his work cut out for him with this one."

"You're right," Leia agreed, and turned to Wedge. "Any idea where Captain Virgiliomight be?"

Wedge smiled, catching her meaning. "Actually, I think it's Major Virgilio now, and as a matter of fact, I _do_ know where he is. But it'll mean a road trip."

"Don't you worry about that," Han told him casually. "We'll have this court martial dropped in no time."

"Thanks, guys," Wedge said again, and proceeded to throw back his alcohol, feeling better than he had in days.

-*-

Luke slid into the co-pilot's seat of the _Starry Blaze_, glancing at the elaborate control panel. From the outside, the ship looked like a hunk of junk. The inside, however was another story. Karrde's people had rigged it with every possible technological advantage available, making it a state-of-the-art frigate, ideal for defending some of the more sensitive cargo his organization tended to transfer. Artoo-Detoo had been comfortably slipped into his hatch behind the cockpit of Luke's X-wing, which was tucked into the _Blaze_'s largest hold. Though Mara had argued against bringing the droid along, Luke had been insistent. Artoo had saved his life on numerous occations and had more than proved his worth in the years that Luke had owned him. Where the Jedi went, Artoo followed—whether Mara liked it or not.

Speaking of . . . His gaze drifted to his left, where Mara sat in the pilot's seat. She was mapping out a route to one of the temporary bases Karrde had set up since losing the center of his operations at Myrkr. Her hair was braided and covered by a nondescript, tan hood that ended at the neck and shoulders of her skintight, black jumpsuit. Goggles hung loosely around her neck, and her arms were bare. A utility belt was strapped low across her hips. Her face was a blank mask, veiling her thoughts in mystery. She looked just as she had when he'd first met her, but most of the hatred was now gone from her bright Force-sense.

"How are we doing?" he asked amiably, hoping a little conversation would lighten the mood. She'd been stonily silent since they'd taken off, and that was hours ago.

"The course is almost plotted," she said, her words clipped. Luke sighed. So much for friendly conversation.

"And Aves is meeting us there?"

"Yes."

He fell silent again, then his eyes dropped to the lightsaber—his father's lightsaber—hanging from her belt.

"When your done with that," he offered, smiling, "how about a sparring match? You're pretty good with a lightsaber." When she didn't answer, he continued. "You could probably use the practice—your form needs some work. And I could teach you some—"

"Look, Skywalker, the only one doing any teaching around here will be me, got it?" she asked, eyes flashing with competitive aggression.

"So does that mean we're on for the sparring match?" he asked hopefully.

"I accept the challenge," she agreed, and punched the course specifications into the nav computer. "Let's go."

-

He quickly discovered that Mara was a force to be reckoned with. She had quickly made him work up a sweat, giving him a solid run for his money. He'd flounced her during their first match, but she'd made a strong comeback in their second. He marveled at the level of training she'd received. She'd obviously picked up on his style of battle after only one match and used that knowledge against him. Still, he managed to beat her again, and offered his hand to help her up.

"You learn very quickly," he said admiringly. She glanced at him, curiosity flickering across her sense as she rolled to her feet without his aid. Luke pulled his hand back without a word, then rolled his shoulders and re-ignited his lightsaber. "Again?"

She lit her own lightsaber and tapped it against his lightly. Her green eyes flashed, a haunting color behind the blue-white blade. "You're on."

She was fast, even after two matches, and struck first. She never started a match the same way twice, so every move was unexpected. Luke sidestepped the jab and took a swing at her, and as she moved to parry he threw his weight in the other direction and swept the blade low before she could connect. She managed to jump the sweep and brought her own blade down as Luke slammed his saber up in a brutal block.

She spun away to recover, bringing the saber around for a back-swipe. He ducked the swipe and then flipped over her head and swung around himself. She dropped her torso back, the blade missing her by mere inches. She knocked it away before he could bring his arm back across, then leapt back to give herself room. He charged at her, but she sidestepped gracefully.

They continued on in this fashion for quite some time, until they were both panting for breath. He finally managed to pin her against the wall with his blade at her throat.

"You're quite imaginative when you fight. Do you think you could teach me some of the moves you pulled? I never saw Yoda pull moves like that," he added with a smile.

"If you're talking about the Yoda I've heard stories about, you might be surprised," Mara replied, moving away from the wall when he backed up. She was surprised he hadn't insisted on teaching her new saber techniques.

"Thanks for the workout," he commented, hooking his saber back onto his belt. He glanced her way. "Would you like the fresher first?"

She shook her head. "Help yourself. I'll go second."

He paused as if he wanted to argue, then decided it wasn't worth it and headed down the hall. When he'd disappeared, Mara glanced down at the weapon in her hand. With a sigh, she clipped it onto her belt and moved into her quarters. Sparring, she decided, would probably help her vent her aggression toward him. She just hoped she never slipped.


	5. Chapter 05

**__**

The Author's Notes: Not much to report. It looks like the speed of the updates might have to slow down a little since I've got classes starting again on Monday and my profs all love to assign MASSIVE amounts of reading and corresponding papers.

This chapter kinda came out a little flightier than I meant . . . almost like a limbo. I guess that's just me setting my facts in stone, but we get back to forward propulsion in the next chapter, which is just about halfway done. This chapter, though, was more of me establishing the "two steps forward, one step back" stuff that Mara's got going on emotionally with Luke. 

I was trying to determine how many chapters I was going to craft this into. Originally that number was around ten . . . but since I'm no where near the halfway point, it has the potential to stretch out much longer than that. Chapter lengths might tend to vary, too, but I seem to linger right around 5 or 6 pages.

So that's the news. . . back to the story.

Disclaimer: _Star Wars is copywrite its respective owners and creators (in this case in particular, Timothy Zahn and George Lucas). I have no intent of making money off of this piece (it wouldn't sell in the first place), nor do I seek to deliberately infringe on copywrite laws. This is just some fun I cooked up in my somewhat twisted little mind._

[thank you to the reviewers:] ariapaige, Deja Know I've Been Lookin For Vu, and kayladie, another big thank you! Paige, I totally feel you about spring break. Writing is my doing nothing . . . well, that and napping. ^,^ Deja, I like saber battles, too! Sorry the updates have to slow down, but it shouldn't be too dramatic of a slowing. Kayladie, I was really nervous about that part with Wedge, Leia and Han. Wedge is one of those characters I love to read about but never really made an integral part of a story before, so I wanted to include him more and I know he and the big three are good friends, so I wanted a more approachable side to Wedge through them. Man, that was a long sentence. Anyway. The lightsaber battle was playing itself over and over in my head—I just had to put it in there. Glad it was easy to follow!

Thanks again!

Eye of the Beholder

Chapter 5

Leia and Han waved as Wedge left after finishing his drink, and then politician turned her husband. One eyebrow was arched as she regarded him, and he knew he'd been caught.

"So, where did you get that theory about Fey'lya?" she asked. "Though I think I already know."

"What makes you think it was fed to me?" he asked defensively, eyes wide in feigned innocence.

"Because _I'm_ the politician of the family, and I know how politicians think, but you aren't quite as familiar with the way they work."

"Yeah, but I _was_ a smuggler, and we're pretty underhanded," he replied.

"Alright. _Did _you come up with that theory on your own?" she asked. Han shrugged sheepishly.

"No. That was what Lando called about. His 'contacts' put it together—but he wouldn't tell me who those contacts are."

"Sounds like Lando," Leia muttered with an eye-roll.

"He knows you're thinking about the Presidency."

She blinked at him. "How can he possibly know that?"

Han shrugged. "It's Lando. I gave up trying to figure him out years ago."

Leia sank into bed, looking tired. Han joined her, stretching out before turning on his side and closing his eyes. In just a few moments, he looked like he was going to be deeply asleep. She shook her head, wishing slumber came that easily to her.

"Should we call Luke?" she asked, tucking herself against Han's warm body.

"We've got time—we can at least give him 'til morning."

She nodded and listened as his breathing deepened, letting that comforting pattern lull her to sleep as well.

-*-

Two in the morning found Mara in the galley, putting together a late-night snack. She almost never slept a whole night through anymore, but that was more beneficial than anything in her line of work. She felt safe at this early hour, able to drop her tight composure, so she danced around the kitchen. It had been a long time since she'd just _danced_, moved just for herself. She'd been to more than a few balls and had posed as a dancer in a couple of information-gathering missions, but she hadn't simply danced to dance in what felt like an eternity.

She had a sinking suspicion that Skywalker was somehow at the root of that urge, which was almost upsetting enough to make her stop dancing. On the other hand, after their sparring matches it felt good to let her muscles move and stretch. In the end, her body won out over her bitter heart. She continued to dance as she made her way to the cockpit—the starlines of hyperspace always helped to lull her back to sleep—and stopped short at the open door. So far, she'd been moving silently, and she kept that stealth as she crept forward.

Luke was there, leaning back in the copilots chair. His position was unguarded and casual, with his arms clasped behind his head and his body tucked into the embrace of the chair. His eyes were only half-open and he looked to be watching the starlines. There was an aura of calm about him that she could detect even without a Force probe of his sense. His black glove, always covering his artificial right hand, hung from its limp fingers—completely off. She realized he'd been looking at his own hand for some reason.

She turned to disappear back down the hall and into her quarters, but his sleep-husky voice stopped her.

"Hello, Mara," he murmured. "Can't sleep?"

"No," she replied. She watched him again and noted something else—as relaxed as the rest of him was, his face had never fully lost its tension. He'd been thinking about something, something that struck home, when Mara had interrupted.

Luke slowly rolled off of the chair, his eyes open now but strangely veiled. The Emperor's eyes had often had that look after he'd had a vision, and Mara shuddered at the similarity.

"Well, I'll let you try and get some sleep, then," he said, and offered her the chair he'd just vacated. Her eyes slid to his uncovered right hand, troubling memories swirling around her. Then she purposefully went to the pilot's chair and curled up there. Luke watched her with that creepy, veiled expression, then seemed to shrug mentally and left.

She was glad he was gone. He'd managed to give her the creeps on just the first night of their trip. She hadn't seen him so off-kilter since Joruus C'boath had played with his head. And that almost-blank look he'd had, so like the Emperor's, still had her skin crawling. Was that the kind of power Luke had?

Mara realized then that it wasn't just Luke's ties to the New Republic that kept her from wanting to get close, it was the unconscious comparisons to the Emperor that kept her at bay. Never again would someone have access to her the way the Emperor had.

She was still wracking with tiny, almost unperceivable tremors when Luke returned. Unwilling to face that blank gaze again, she closed her eyes and feigned sleep. He seemed to hesitated, as if trying to decide if she was really sleeping or not, before tucking a blanket in around her. He must have mistaken her earlier shudders for cold.

A blanket. Mara let her eyes drift open as he trailed back toward his quarters. The gesture surprised her. No one had ever bothered to cover her with a blanket before—and she couldn't remember ever being tucked in, either.

He'd tucked in his assassin.

Her eyes closed again, her mind warring against itself. One part told her he could be just like the Emperor, whose power was a thing to be feared and mistrusted; the other told her he was a simple farm boy from a simpler planet, whose only motive was to tuck people in when they were cold.

Still raging that battle, she too found sleep.

--

She didn't mention the blanket the next morning when Luke rejoined her in the cockpit, and he didn't bother to bring up the subject either. His fingers were curled around a cup of caf, and his eyes were bright and clear.

"Did you get to sleep?" he asked instead. Mara gave a short nod and gestured to the computer.

"We should be meeting with Aves tomorrow. We were going to stop at the base, but to conserve time, he's bringing the _Wild Karrde_ and meeting us halfway. He'll have whatever supplies we don't. Then we can set course for the Rim."

The Jedi nodded, sipping at his caf thoughtfully. She decided that he was probably trying to determine a likely planet on the Rim to go. Trouble was, though there weren't too many planets on the Rim worthwhile to go, the ones that _did_ make the list were widely spread. And they didn't know what Karrde had been after when he'd left. Aves had told her that the boss had been deliberately vague about his reasons for leaving. Vague enough to leave them with no more than a general direction.

She caught Luke frown from the corner of her eyes. "What is it?" she asked.

"I was trying to find some echo of Karrde's sense in the Force, but we must be too far away."

Ah. So he'd been tapping into the Force to find her boss. Somehow, she hadn't thought that was a possibility.

It was a relief to know that his power had limits.

"Any ideas on what he might have wanted on the Rim?" he asked, turning those bright eyes her way. Mara shook her head.

"No. Though I suspect it might have something to do with the Smuggler's Alliance. After all, that's the only thing we'd talked about for days before hand," she told him.

"So it's possible he was looking for someone?"

Mara's eyes narrowed in concentration. "It's possible. I don't remember him mentioning any names, though."

"No old contacts he might want to get back into touch with? Nobody who might be able to help the negotiations along?"

She eyed incredulously. "No one can help _those_ negotiations along."

He actually laughed, a warm and welcome sound that echoed in the close cockpit.

"You've got a point," he conceded. "I wish your boss wasn't always so close-lipped. But when we get out to the Rim, I might be able to find him with the Force."

Mara nodded. "We'll have to think of a disguise for you," she murmured thoughtfully. Luke grimaced, remembering the last time she'd thought of a disguise.

"No plants," he told her firmly. A feral grin spread across her face at the memory.

"But you pulled off the puffy look so well," she argued.

"No."

"Suit yourself," she said nonchalantly. "We'll just have to think of something else."

There was a long silence, and then she snapped her fingers excitedly. He glanced at her as she leapt up from her seat and disappeared to some other part of the ship. Five minutes later, she returned with a make-up kit in hand—the largest make-up kit he'd ever seen.

Eyeing it warily, he asked, "And just what are you planning to do with all of _that_?"

"Don't worry, you'd make an ugly woman," she told him, popping the top open and searching through a myriad of colors. "But we might be able to pass you off of a Corellian."

Luke looked amused as she mixed a couple of pigments together. "A Corellian?"

She shrugged. "Your brother-in-law is a Corellian. Do you think you can pull the attitude off?"

"I flew with the Rogues—some of my closest friends are Corellians—I think I can pull it off."

She began to rub his face with the makeup, darkening his skin. After blending it into his cheek, she sat back to admire her handiwork.

"We might just pull this off," she said. "We'll have to cut and darken your hair, and we should change your eye color too, just in case."

"Sounds good. If anyone recognizes me, I've got the Force as a fallback," he replied.

Mara nodded and gathered her case back together. "All right. Before we hit the Rim, I'll make you look like a complete stranger."

She left him, disappearing yet again. Luke scrubbed the makeup off of his cheek and sat back, left alone in silence. He let the calm of it wash over him and fell into a trance, hoping to find some answers.

-*-

The twins were squalling, and though Han tried valiantly to make them happy, they weren't satisfied with his efforts. He bounced them on his knees and strained to peek into the next room—where his wife was entertaining Mon Mothma.

"All I'm asking is that you keep an eye on him," Leia was saying. "He's making dangerous accusations of this government's greatest heroes. These men are not criminals. They are our champions."

Mon Mothma gave Leia a long-suffering gaze. "Leia, I am no more happy about these proceedings than you are, but I am bound by the law—law that you half create—to determine if these men need to be punished for their actions. They can't be held exempt because of their status."

"I know that, but Bel Iblis—" Leia interrupted herself mid-thought. She knew of the long time amnesty between the two, and though they were on much better terms than they had been in years, she decided that bringing in the headstrong Corellian general into her defense.

"I have no doubt that Han, Luke, and Wedge were acting in the best interests of the New Republic, and this will all blow over very quickly. Unless there's something else you'd like to tell me?"

"Of course not," Leia said, looking almost insulted.

"Than you've got nothing to worry about. Trust this government, and do try to relax and _enjoy_ your maternity leave," the older woman said. Leia looked ready to argue, but let her shoulders fall in defeat before things escalated out of control. She saw Mon Mothma out gracefully, then walked into the nursery and took Jacen.

"That didn't go as well as planned," Han muttered, rubbing Jaina's back soothingly. 

"No, it didn't." Leia frowned. "What I'm worried about is how many senators may agree with Fey'lya about the reemergence of the Jedi. Luke may have more of a battle than he bargained for."

"If there's one thing Luke can handle, it's a fight."

Leia situated her self to better feed her son, and let out a long sigh. "He shouldn't have to fight—least of all against a slander campaign."

"I agree with you there, but Luke will be able to cope. Too many people admire him."

"Admire him." She glanced at him with tired brown eyes. "And fear him."

-*-

Mara watched as Luke drifted through his trance, a bit wary. She'd only ever seen the Emperor go into a trance-like state, and that was usually only before he ordered her off on some mission or another. For a brief moment, fear and anger at that fear flared up in her. It was that fear that shook Luke out of his trance.

For a moment, blue eyes as depthless and open as the sky regarded her, searing into her, as if her mind was a rare book laid open before him. She squirmed uncomfortably, and felt an echo of his hurt at her burst of emotions.

"It's not exactly easy for me, you know," she snapped aloud, trying to squash her guilty conscious. "You're sitting there, in a trance, just like _him."_

"And that scares you."

"Yes," she grumbled, settling into her chair.

"You think I'll end up like him."

"It's not up for discussion."

Luke shook his head, his eyes intent upon her face, which was turned slightly away from him.

"To be frank," he said softly, "I'm scared, too."

Her emerald eyes shot up to his, full of questions and suspicions. He continued, holding her gaze with steely blue bonds.

"I'm afraid of turning out like them—Vader and the Emperor. When I found out . . ." He trailed off for a moment, his throat working with the memory of powerful emotion. "When I found out that Vader was my father, I thought it was inevitable. That I was _certain_ to turn into a monster. I still fight it. It goes without saying that anger and aggression are of the dark side, and I fight those things every day . . . But the other aspect—the _fear_—that's a lot harder to fight.

"How do you stop your heart from pounding when someone you love is in danger? How do you keep from giving in to the ice that grips you when you _know _you're going to die? Or—worse—the fear that you'll give into those darker urges that are already clutching at you? I'm in almost constant danger of falling into fear. Fear for my loved ones, and fear for my own soul."

Mara stared at him, overwhelmed by his confessions. Old emotions—the ones squashed out by years of relentless training—rose in her. Sympathy and remorse rolled through her before she could pin them down. The fear lingered, too, but no longer was it a fear simply for herself. A small, sad smile touched his lips then.

"I'm winning," he told her simply. "But it's hard and lonely. And if I ever lose, I know at least one person will have the guts to take care of the problem."

It was the end of the conversation. It left Mara strangely off-kilter, put her companion in a whole new perspective, and added to her list of the skeletons in his closet. He had, she decided, a big closet.

She felt choked sitting there, being dragged into him without her consent, so she stood and headed for the galley.

"We'll meet up with the _Wild Karrde_ in the morning," she told him neutrally, and disappeared down the hall. Luke let out a long breath and turned his attention to the starlines, wondering what impact his confessions had on her. He had no doubt that the Force was forging a bond between them, for what purpose he did not know. He knew she wouldn't be happy to learn of it, but he was certain it would prove itself invaluable.

He moved down the hall to his own quarters, deciding to give her space. His mind trailed off to Wedge. The young pilot had been his friend right from Luke's early days in the Rebellion. And while Luke knew there was little he could do for his friend from the Rim, he knew Wedge would appreciate the thought. Besides, thinking about Wedge's court martial kept his mind off of some of the more colorful visions that had plagued his meditation.


	6. Chapter 06

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The Author's Notes: Well, the next update will hopefully be a little quicker. This week I had midterms and an essay to write which is why this wasn't out faster. I also quit my old job and took a new one so that's been causing a bit of a time crunch as well.

Okay. This section moves the search forward a bit. Wedge's part is a little lame, but I love him so much I had to put him in there. I don't think I'm going to really go into detail with the hearings for Han and Wedge since I certainly don't know much about any court or judicial systems. I tend to obey the law myself. But you will know the outcomes.

Alrighty, that's about it on this front…

Disclaimer: _Star Wars is copywrite its respective owners and creators (in this case in particular, Timothy Zahn and George Lucas). I have no intent of making money off of this piece (it wouldn't sell in the first place), nor do I seek to deliberately infringe on copywrite laws. This is just some fun I cooked up in my somewhat twisted little mind._

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[thank you to the reviewers:] Deja Know I Been Lookin For Vu, ariapaige, Jedi-2B, and Urazz, you guys/girls continue to rock! I really love it when you guys put in specific parts/lines that you liked. Then I try to do more stuff like it.

Deja: The meditation plays a bigger role later, so I'll just keep ya in suspense . . . lol. I know Luke dying is not a happy thought, but . . . he wasn't in a very good mood. He'll get funny again quickly. I'll also try to keep updating fast when I've got the time!

Paige: I'm sorry break is over too! Thank you! You're right about the Mon/Leia scene. I swear, I'm the queen of typos! I'm glad you liked the blanket stuff. It was one of my favorite bits, too.

Jedi-2B: I'm glad you liked that chapter. Personally, I thought it was a little slow, but I wanted to get a lot of framework down for Luke and Mara before I even try to build on their could-be romance. You picked right up on the Emperor deal—I think she'd be absolutely terrified of the monster Luke could become simply because he's got access to that kind of power. I really liked what you said about not liking the glove, so there's a bit in this chapter just for you. Hope you like it!

Urazz: I'm glad you like it! Hopefully it'll continue to improve as I keep going.

Eye of the Beholder

Chapter 06

Aves paced back and forth as Mara checked their gear. He looked agitated, more agitated than she'd ever seen him—but then Karrde wasn't the type to simply disappear with nary a word to his employees. She was agitated too, more than she cared to admit, but she was far more adept at masking that distracting emotion. Usually. Luke stood quietly near the back of the room, quiet and almost shrouded in the shadows. After his soul-bearing the day before, Mara was almost relieved that he was keeping somewhat to himself. There was a whole new _air_ between them—as if she was both more comfortable and uncomfortable with him than ever before. It was a confusing and unwanted feeling, and she decided that the sooner they'd sprung Karrde from whatever trouble he'd managed to land himself in, the better.

"All there?" he asked quietly, bringing his attention to her.

"All there," she agreed shortly, hoping to discourage him from further conversation. As if he caught that intent—and maybe he had--he jerked his eyes away and pressed his lips into a thin, tight line.

Aves ran a hand through his already-disheveled hair and cast Mara a look. "He might swing by Mrykr—just to see."

Of course. Karrde's base of operations had been on Myrkr. It was the closest thing to a home he'd ever had before Thrawn destroyed it. He'd always been a bit nostalgic about it. But then . . . Luke's eyes flashed back to hers, and she shared his thought.

Karrde wouldn't go back. Losing it in the first place had been too painful.

And Luke understood that. It's what kept him from going back to Tatooine, what made him so hesitant to return to Dagobah. He knew exactly how Karrde felt. His lips tightened further and he turned away again.

Unexpectedly, Mara felt bad for him. He seemed to do that to her, always making her feel things she hadn't since she'd been a small child. But seeing him there, obviously torn up about something, her stomach twisted in pity. She quashed the urge to say something quickly and put her full attention in the task ahead.

"You said something about Tatooine."

Aves shrugged. "Karrde had asked us to send someone out there. He didn't mention why, but Tatooine's always been a stop for smugglers. I figured he'd just heard something about a new smuggling ring or something."

Something reacted in Luke before he could shield it properly, something that Mara felt quite clearly. She turned her gaze to him again, but he was still tight-lipped. Some of the color had drained from his face, and his eyes studiously avoided hers.

"I guess that's as good a place to start as any. He might have checked it out himself since he was heading to the Rim."

"Worth a shot," Aves agreed. "I suppose I'm still in charge of this rabble, then."

She smiled at him. "For a while, anyway."

"Believe me," he muttered with a glance around, "I'll be glad to give it back. You'd better get going."

She nodded, her smile fading. "You're right. You know how to get into contact with me of you need to?"

He gave her a withering look. "Of course."

Another brief smile touched her lips. "Of course," she repeated, and tossed Luke his share of the gear. "Let's go."

His eyes flashed as they met hers, then he glanced over her shoulder and nodded to Aves. After the silent goodbye, he and Mara were walking out of the door. Moments later they were back in their ship. Then the silence descended.

His eyes were electric, and locked onto her face. Mara tried to ignore that as she carefully maneuvered the _Blaze_ away from the _Wild Karrde_. She kept her gaze away from his for several long moments.

"Are you going to sit there and gawk all day, Skywalker?" she snapped finally, unable to bear that all-seeing gaze any longer.

She was surprised when, at her harsh question, he immediately pulled his gaze away. "Sorry."

The silence stretched out again after his apology, their discomfort with each other growing. She focused on plotting a discreet course to Tatooine, trying with everything in her power to ignore him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked suddenly.

"Talk about what, Skywalker?" It wasn't really a question, at least not one she wanted an answer to.

"You know what," he said sharply, reaching the limits of his own temper.

"No," she told him, "I don't."

"Well we certainly can't spend the next few days like this."

"I know that. Do you think I'm enjoying this?" she demanded, whirling to face him. He had already turned her way, his eyes narrowed. Electricity crackled between them.

"Probably as much as I am," he snapped.

"Less," she assured him coldly.

She watched the anger drain from him as he regained control. The electricity faded between them, and his gaze dropped to his hands.

"I pushed you too hard," he muttered. "Sorry. I was just trying to . . . I don't know what I was trying to do. I want to—"

He cut himself off, feeling himself flush. _I want to be your friend._ He sighed.

She watched him, lingering somewhere between anger and sudden, inexplicable sadness. Her eyes dropped to his glove covered hand, and realized that it bothered her that he covered it.

Mara didn't put up with things that bothered her. She got rid of them. So she grabbed the leather and yanked, ripping it clean off. His gaze leapt to hers, his hand recoiled from her fingers automatically.

"Hiding the things that bother you isn't any way to solve your problems," she muttered quietly, though he had a suspicion she was talking to herself more than to him. She moved toward the door swiftly. As she left, she threw the glove down. He stared at it on the floor, then moved to pick it up. He bent over, his fingers brushed the leather, but he didn't grasp it.

All of a sudden, there wasn't much he _did_ grasp.

He straightened, lifted his chin, and walked down the hall to his own quarters. The glove remained on the floor.

-*-**_A few days later_**-*-

He wasn't ready to come back—he hadn't thought he'd ever come back. Even when he'd returned to save Han, he'd only gone to Jabba's Palace, and even then it was only out of dire necessity. He never would have returned if Han had been safe. And as the planet loomed closer and closer, Luke felt the memories return with surprising clarity. He tried to control the emotion and keep it from rippling out in the Force, but he lacked the concentration. Mara shot him a sideways glance.

"This place really gets to you, doesn't it?" she asked. It wasn't meant to be sympathetic or cruel, it was just a question. And yet it helped to focus on her, and he though for a moment that she might not be as tough as she would have everyone believe.

"Just . . . My memories of this place are strong. I thought it was the end of my family. This is where my life really started. When I met Ben . . . "

"There was no going back," she finished. She'd felt that way about the Emperor, and later Luke.

"Right." He paused. "Anyway, it doesn't really matter—I have to move forward with my life."

She glanced at him again, felt him reign in his emotions. "Don't let it interfere with our search," she said quietly. He looked like a stranger to her. His hair had been shortened and darkened, and his eyes, once a sharp, clear blue, were now a much duller chocolate brown. His skin had been artificially darkened as well, nearly as tanned as it had been when he'd lived on the arid desert planet looming in front of them. And, she noted, his right hand was uncovered. She hadn't seen the black glove since their fight.

Those brown eyes nailed her with a look that clearly stated his thoughts on _that_ subject. "I won't let it cloud my judgment if that's what you mean," he said quietly. He was feeling unreasonably agitated, and ran through a Jedi calming technique. By the time he'd finished it, Mara had gracefully set the ship down on a landing pad in Mos Eisley. They'd agreed to start there, since all the gossip on the planet circulated through its cantinas.

"Miserable place," she commented as they descended the ramp side by side.

He snorted, his eyes moving over the cityscape. Not much had changed since he'd escaped with Ben, Chewie, the droids and Han. It felt like forever ago . . .

"I spent most of my life struggling to get away. Uncle Owen never saw it that way though." He shrugged. "They're alike, Tatooine and Owen. Come to think of it—" he smiled—"they even kind of looked alike back then."

Mara gave a small, crooked grin. "Just don't tell your wife that, or she might refuse to have kids with you."

"Gotta find a wife first," he replied, chuckling. "Besides, I'd be willing to bet I took after my mother's side of the family."

They trailed through the streets, appropriately wary. They gave most of the other more colorful inhabitants of the city wide birth, and Luke kept a hand on the blaster at his hip. It was loosely holstered, and the gun belt hung low across his hips for easy access. He was still a crack shot, though he preferred his light saber. That, however, had been tucked into a compartment in Artoo, who trailed at their heals, warbling to himself. Mara's was in there as well, but she had a nasty-looking blaster rifle slung across her back.

"Where should we start?" she asked. He gestured to one of the more popular cantinas.

"Hopefully, all we'll have to do is linger around the bar and listen . . . Perhaps ask a few questions."

She eyed him, amusement apparent on her face. "That almost sounds too easy."

"Well . . ." Luke grinned at her. "I didn't say how _long_ we might have to linger around the bar."

-*-

"Does anyone even know where Fey'lya is?" Wedge asked. He and the rest of the Rogue Squadron found themselves in a small Palace topcaf, clustered around a large, round table near the back.

Hobbie shook his head. "Nope. Well, none of us, anyway. But Mon Mothma knows where he is, and he's been contacting other big-wigs regularly."

"But no one really knows?"

The pilots shrugged.

"Someone's got to—he's on planet." Wedge sighed in frustration. "I almost hope Luke gets into some kind of trouble, just so we have leave to get out of here. Then again," he muttered to himself with a smile, "it is Luke—there's a good chance we'll be out of here by the end of the week."

The others laughed. Luke was infamous for getting himself into trouble—and more than adept at getting out of it, especially if he had some help.

Wedge lingered with his Squadron for a while, then made excuses and headed to the hanger. That was where he went to tinker with his X-wing and get away from it all. It was usually fairly devoid of life, with the exception of a few other mechanics and security personnel. Wedge made his way toward the back of the massive hanger, where his ship was being held for the duration of his pre-trial proceedings. He rubbed his hand along the side of it and sighed.

He got to work immediately, without any real purpose. He did basic maintenance, cleaned, tinkered, but mostly he thought. Wedge did his best thinking while working with his hands. There, sweating and covered in grease, Wedge considered the battle for the _Katana_ fleet.

It had been both a victory and defeat—but the New Republic lost more than they won that day. Mara had almost died, lost in space, and had been saved by Luke—the only one who could have possibly located her in the wreckage. Wedge himself had been wiping out TIE fighters and doing his best to bring down a _Star Destroyer_. Luke, Han, and Lando had been on the fleet's flagship, fighting off storm troopers. But they had ignored orders from Fey'lya to cease and desist.

At the time, when Fey'lya's true intentions were brought to light, no one ever thought that fighting off the Imperials would return to haunt them. But the fact was that they all _had_ ignored an order from a superior officer.

The aftermath of that battle led to the launch of several key events, and soon everyone was too focused on Thrawn, C'boath, the clones and the storehouse on Wayland to care about the confused events of the battle over _Katana._

Now, however—now that was all that was on everyone's minds. It was all over Coruscant. People were torn. Did they prosecute the heroes of the New Republic? After all, the names that were splashed all over the holonews were extremely well-known. These men had been celebrated, admired and hailed for years.

Wedge leaned back for a moment, dragging a forearm across his brow. He was to consult the Senate the next day to dispute the claims being brought up against him. Han would have to do the same. Luke, away on a mission, had temporarily been spared that fate. He'd been allowed to go on faith alone—it was absurd to think that Luke Skywalker, who'd faced down the Emperor, Darth Vader, and more recently Joruus C'boath was a flight risk.

The veteran pilot let out a long breath and leaned back into the engine. He stayed there for hours, glad for the solitude.

-*-

Han was pacing back and forth, eyes narrowed. He had a dangerous look in his eyes, one that made Leia wary. After a few long moments, he plopped down in his favorite chair and held his arms out for Jaina. His wife knew what troubled him—it wasn't hard to guess—but she was unsure of how to council him.

"Fey'lya's a sneaky, underhanded—"

Leia shook her head. "Be that as it may, your temper is not going to win over the Senate. But the people are on your side, and you acted in the best interest of the New Republic."

"Too little," Han commented bitterly, "too late."

"No one's saying that, Han," she told him reasonably. "I'm sure you'll be let off with no charges."

He shook his head. "And what are we going to do about the Luke situation?"

"We can support him. He's aware of Fey'lya's plan. But finding Karrde is more important right now. All we have to do is make sure that people are reminded of the many sacrifices Luke has made for the good of this government."

Han didn't look happy about it, and Leia really couldn't blame him. She knew that until her husband could get out there and _do_ something, he wouldn't feel he was helping his brother-in-law at all.

"Did the kid say where they were headed first?" he asked, changing the subject.

"He said they were starting at Tatooine. He had mixed emotions about it."

"I bet." Han snorted. "He wasn't exactly thrilled the _last_ time he had to go out there."

"I know. But Mara won't mess around. If she wants to start on Tatooine, that's where they'll start," Leia replied.

"She's good for him, that one."

"Who, Mara?" Leia shook her head. "I don't know. I don't trust her."

"You didn't trek through the forests of Wayland with her," her husband retorted. "She changed on that trip. And she's a damn useful ally. She and Luke make quite a team. And she doesn't put up with his new Jedi moods."

"Jedi moods?"

"You know how he's been lately. Too serious. He doesn't laugh enough. And ever since the twins were born—"

Leia nodded, feeling instinctively guilty. "You're right, he feels separated from us now."

"She makes him laugh," Han pointed out decisively, "and anyone that makes Luke laugh is okay in my book."

Leia smiled. "You old softy."

"Don't let that get out, you'll ruin my reputation," he replied, and kissed her.


End file.
